


Baby it's Cold Outside. (Or, in Which a Violet Blooded Aristocrat's Reputation Does Not Precede Him to His Great Disbelief.)

by Quinquangularist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Eridan is a nerd, I might add to it if I can be arsed, M/M, brief mentions of Feferi, set on earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:36:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinquangularist/pseuds/Quinquangularist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the Alternian Ambassador to Earth actually wasn't all it was cracked up to be. You were pretty sure it was just Feferi's way of getting you off-planet and far away, like she did with Vriska and that planet with the Cherubs.<br/>The paperwork was torture, their languages were limiting, they never seemed able to understand your accent, and the humans you generally interacted with were old, fat, balding and long-winded.<br/>This was not the case, however, today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby it's Cold Outside. (Or, in Which a Violet Blooded Aristocrat's Reputation Does Not Precede Him to His Great Disbelief.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, it is unbeta-ed (??) and probably full of typos. I also cannot seem to make Eridan stop monologuing whenever I write him, which leads me to believe that in my subconscious, he's a pretentious purple Disney villain. Not unlike that Eezma woman from the Emperor's New Groove. (She was really fucking nasty.)  
> I'll shut up now.

Being the Alternian Ambassador to Earth actually wasn't all it was cracked up to be. You were pretty sure it was just Feferi's way of getting you off-planet and far away, like she did with Vriska and that planet with the Cherubs.  
The paperwork was torture, their languages were limiting, they never seemed able to understand your accent, and the humans you generally interacted with were old, fat, balding and long-winded.  
This was not the case, however, today. You skim violet eyes over the tall human and are pleasantly surprised. This is no fat-cat politician. John Egbert introduces himself and you fall into his eyes through two layers of glass.  
"Eridan Ampora," you mutter, holding out a shaky hand.  
Mister Egbert wears a tailored black suit, wire-framed glasses, a cyan blue tie that sets off his eyes and a five o'clock shadow, even though it's only eleven am.  
He smiles at you and grasps your hand firmly. You melt.  
You smile back, hiding fangs to the best of your ability, and John chuckles,  
"Don't worry, Ambassador Ampora, troll teeth don't frighten me." He assures you and your grin widens slightly.  
You have to concentrate to stop your earfins from flushing purple.  
"Y'know, I've never met a violet blooded troll before, or a seadweller for that matter. In human culture, violet is associated with royalty and magic or the fantastical. A lot of kings and princes would've worn violet."  
You're taken aback by his little monologue and subsequently forget to tell him that magic is not real.  
"Really?" You ask instead, "On Alternia, vviolet is considered the second highest blood colour after royal tyrian." You also don't bother telling him that the hemospectrum has gone to shit since Feferi declared Alternia a democracy and republic. Even Equius has shut up about it.  
He peers down at your rings as they rest on your desk.  
Catching sight of bright red, he raises an eyebrow and grins.  
"Sufferist huh? Didnt think they came in highblood variety."  
You look down at your paperwork and tell him that the Sufferer's Heir is your close friend, to which he nods and leans against the edge the table.  
"I can see you're busy," he intones, "but maybe when you're finished we could… I dunno, get coffee or something?"  
You blink. Once. Twice. Three times.  
Then nod.  
"Yeah, okay." Your voice barely rises above a whisper.  
Coffee is used as a euphemism for sex here right? Which kind of coffee was he proposing? You mean, you're fine with either, but a bit of clarity would be nice.  
"Tell you what, I'll come back when you want me to, cause I don't know when you finish work."  
You never finish work.  
He scribbles something down on one of your used sweet wrappers, (what, you like toffees okay?) and strolls out the door with a nod.  
You peer at it.  
Earth numbers.  
No, an earth number. Phone number to be exact.  
You go Ampora!  
The little victory dance is completely involuntary, you assure yourself. 

Hours in the future, but not many ===>

Earth winters are cold. Much colder than those of Alternia, whose scorching sun warmed it all year round.  
When you spot him outside like he said he would be, he's wrapped in a long charcoal-coloured coat.  
You're going to freeze out there.  
You wrap your scarf around you, and shrug on your black duffel coat, which is in no way warm enough for this weather.  
The remains of snow glisten under strings of lights.  
You sigh and puff out a cloud of smoke. Pyrope would've loved this, you being a dragon.  
John looks your way and beams, cheeks pink from the cold.  
"Hey," he greets, "I was wondering if you'd show up."  
You walk with him, frozen to the bone, to what he claims is the best cafe this side of Alternia.  
You laugh a little at that.  
Earth is beautiful this time of year, this time of night. Every surface shimmering with frost and lights and even through the cold, the humans look so happy, peaceful even.  
Christmas features quite a bit in earth history, but your favourite occasions were during the Franco-Prussian war and World War I, when the sentiment of the holiday inspired breaks from the slaughter. (Human warfare is interesting, shut up!)  
The cafe is tiny, a hole in the wall on a street you can't remember the name of.  
It's caramel brown, with a purple sign and the paint on the door peeling a little. Warm golden light envelopes you as you step inside, shaking off your jacket. John takes it like a gentleman and hangs both coats on a battered rack by the door, sparing a smile for the fedora that rests there. You peer at him, confused, but he just waves you off,  
"Don't worry about it." He says.  
"Hey, John, the uh -usual?"  
It's Tavros.  
Fuck.  
He's bigger than either of you, massive horns and new wings making manoeuvring very difficult.  
"Tavv?! She booted you off planet too?" You exclaim, voice muffled behind your scarf.  
"Eridan? H-hi, it sure has been awhile."  
His English is almost perfect. Better than yours, his accent barely noticeable. (You're slightly jealous to be honest.)  
"Hey! I'm all motherfucking here too fishbro!" Gamzee Makara steps out of the kitchen, and it's like a little reunion. Gamzee's sopor addiction stunted his growth, so he's only about as tall as you, and lanky as a beanpole.  
John, to your surprise and glee, doesn't seem phased in the least.  
"Can I have an espresso, and a house special for the seadweller please." He says in halting Alternian and all you can do is blink.  
A human speaking Alternian is almost unheard of, and it's wonderful.  
"They's got themselves a deal, Egbro and Tavbabe, John teaches us English, and we motherfucking teach him Alternian." Gamzee explains in a stage whisper.  
You nod dumbly.  
The two of you sit at a table next to the counter and talk in an odd mix of your two native languages.  
His accent is terrible, but then again, so is yours. You're surprised at first, that his anatomy allows him to pronounce some of the more complicated words, but he seems able.  
Gamzee brings out two cups, the smaller of which he places in front of John.  
The cup he gives you is full to the brim of something that smells delicious.  
"And a motherfucking miraculous house special for the seadwellin' motherfucker." He grins and John tells you,  
"Try it."  
So you do.  
It's a mixture of human coffee and an Alternian hot drink you haven't had in sweeps. What's surprising is how good it tastes.  
You're staring, smiling, at the cup with foam on your top lip.  
John's grin brightens.  
"S'good isn't it?" He wipes the foam from your still grinning mouth with a pink thumb.  
You blush like an imbecile. You've only known the man a day and already you're falling for him.  
Eridan the pailslut, Eridan the hopeless romantic, Eridan the idiot.  
You scowl at your lap. Does he know? Has your reputation preceded you? Has Tavros been spreading rumours? Has Gamzee?  
"I'm sorry," says John, "didnt mean to make you uncomfortable."  
You're more than slightly taken aback.  
You just nod and take another gulp of your interplanetary concoction, unsure of what to say.  
The time passes in silence, and soon, you're the only people left in the cafe.  
"John? I'm uh, I mean, we're gonna head home. You know how to lock up, right?"  
Tavros calls over Gamzee's laughter and his own whispers of "shut up, shhh, oh fuck that sounded pale eww!"  
They stumble giggling out the door.  
You smile.  
"So they're matesprits?" You ask.  
John grins back.  
"Not really, they're kind of, everything to eachother. They're more like a human couple really, it's both strange and adorable."  
You scoff. Trust Gamzee and Tavros to fuck up something as simple as quadrants.  
"So where are you headed?" He asks.  
"I'vve got an apartment. Up by that neww statue that looks like-"  
"A fried egg? I know it."  
He drapes your coat over your shoulders and takes the fedora.  
"That yours?"  
"It used to be."  
And for the second time you head off into the freezing night with John Egbert.


End file.
